


Sleeping Alone

by RoyalFunky



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, sleepy talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:50:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalFunky/pseuds/RoyalFunky





	Sleeping Alone

Me and Niall were laid in bed, in my hometown in the north of England. 

The pub where Niall went to have a drink was a real melting pot of different accents, and he had been drawn to mine, especially when he heard me talking to the barmaid, one of my friends from university, about how I had never tried Guinness. He came over to us and sighed.   
"Yer a disgrace. How avn't ye tried Guinness?" he asked, a little shocked. I shrugged, holding the glass of vodka and coke up in front of me.   
"Prefer to stick to spirits me sen..." I shot back, all the broad Yorkshire language I knew coming back to me.London drove it out of you a little.   
"Still. 'Ave a drink o' dis." he said, shoving the pint of thick, black brew in my face. I took a sip and made a face.   
"Well, if I was really drunk, but I'd have to have a few of these first." I chuckled.   
"I'll take ye up on yer offer, give me yer number." I stepped back a bit. I wasn't feeling too attractive at the minute, but his phone was already out. "Here. Shove it in. You look quite 'andy wi technology." I tapped in the number quickly, saving it under my name. 

And that's how I met him, the snoring Irish lout currently tucked under my armpit and looking like butter wouldn't melt. I wondered how I had gotten so lucky. Niall was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. And lovely too. Really lovely. He loved making other people laugh, and we shared music interests.Our alarm was the same Kodaline song. We even had the stupid pillows that lit up when the other person was asleep or laid on it. He never got any tattoos, I liked to make my own, on his hips, his thighs, where his V started. Missed him when he was away like hell. Went to see him as often as possible, he came home when he could. 

I remembered a facetime call we had had a few weeks prior, when I was in Yorkshire, but coming home on the late train.  
"Am I getting a chauffeur?" I asked. Niall nodded.  
"But righ' now, M'sleepy. An' I know someone who tells the best bedtime stories." he chuckled. I smiled.  
"Do you now?" I asked. He nodded.   
"I do. It's you." he said, closing his eyes, his eyelashes long and dark in stark contrast against his porcelain skin.   
"Well, when I get to London..." I started. "I'll have a very nice looking chauffeur, called Niall, who'll take me back to his luxury pad in the affluent suburbs..." Niall was nodding along. "And we'll eat dinner, a takeaway ordered in from that really nice Chinese place down the road. When we've eaten that, I want to curl up under a blanket on the sofa and watch a movie we've watched a million times before, so we can kiss... well, make out, but that's beside the point... so we can kiss during it and not miss the plot, and then I want to go to bed. I want to go to bed and drink lemon and ginger tea, and kiss some more, before brushing our teeth and climbing into bed to sleep..." Niall kept nodding along, and I could tell he was half listening, half asleep, the cheeky beggar.   
"I want to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy morning sex until there's a wet spot on the bed, and then some more, and when we regain our breath, I want you to roll onto your back and tell me you know this little place we can go in central London for our breakfast, and that you made a reservation for this tiny little corner booth where we can pour over the morning papers, and drink tea and have the best full English in the whole damn world. And that's where I want to go, and we'll go shopping afterwards, and you'll tell me to get myself dolled up in the afternoon, because we're going out for dinner with Louis and Eleanor and the rest of them, and Liam's got us in at the Funky Buddha, on the guest list, in fact, and that's our Saturday night sorted." Niall smiled.   
"And what then, princess? What'll we do then?" he asked, yawning, his baby blue eyes wide open, interested and alert. Our nights out were usually very interesting, as nights out go.   
"I'll get dolled up, and you'll look snappy, jeans and a polo or something along those lines, with that butter-soft leather jacket that we both know'll end up on my shoulders by the end of the night." Niall's leather jacket was Niall's. It smelt like him, Guinness and aftershave, with a hint of my sweet perfume around the neck and the hem. The pockets barely fit his hands, the big dinner plates he had the audacity to call hands. His fingers were long, and well formed, strong and calloused from hours of guitar playing. When he had them inside me, those long, calloused digits brought noises out of me that I would never usually make. The callouses made all the difference.   
"We'll go out in your Range, get one of the drivers to take us back in it. Meet the others at a secluded spot in the restaurant, order drinks, food. Then we'll eat, have a good time, introduce ourselves to the friend that Harry brought along so he wouldn't be alone. You'll have something huge, like a steak, and I'll have a salad, and you'll insist that I should definitely try this steak, even though you always get the sauce with Guinness, and as we know, I hate Guinness, and any sauce made with it, and you always have your steak too cooked for my liking, but to humour you, I'll try it. When we're done, we'll go to the Funky Buddha, and we'll get smashed. Wasted. Off our face with alcohol, until we can't see or think straight. And the handlers, or the babysitters, will come in and collect us all to stop us making front page news in tomorrow's paper, and shove us two into your Range, and they'll have to suffer us making out, and perhaps even me getting you off, before we get taken home and pushed into the house, door locked and keys pushed through the letterbox. I'll take my heels off and we'll run upstairs, giggling all the while, and I want you to throw me on the bed and have your way with me, before I make my own tattoos on your hips, on your thighs, bring you off with my mouth. And I want to fall asleep and do it all again next weekend." I said, seeing that Niall had got that look about him that meant he had whited out and then gone to sleep. I decided that it would be good for me to do the same too.

I got a text.'Good Morning, princess', it said. There was another one ten minutes later. 'Am I a lazy sod for not getting up and changing my boxers? They're sticky.'. And another. 'Princess, can you come down to London now and drag my sticky boxers off me, because I can't be arsed to move.'. Soon another dinged in. 'I think I might have whited out in my sleep.There's definitely more than one deposit in here.' I rolled my eyes and started a text back, before deciding to ring him.   
"Niall Horan, get your arse out of bed and change your pants. You're disgusting."   
"Good morning to you too, and thanks for the reminder." I heard clunking down the other end of the phone, and a drawer opening across the room. I heard the dirty boxers hit the wall near the washing basket, to which I shouted;  
"Pick those up! I don't want to stand on them later!". Then shuffling, and the lid opening and closing. He must've changed them quickly and wiped himself up with a baby wipe, before getting back into bed. I heard the bedsheets rustle, before he curled up on his side like usual and began to talk to me again, instead of me talking to the room.   
"Thought I'd come to the end of sticky morning boxers..." he said, with an air of nonchalance. "Ah well. Must just be reminding me it's still there." he chuckled, his voice crackly with disuse. "Right, I gotta get goin'. Stuff to organise, bedroom to clean." he said. I chuckled.   
"Alright, Niall. Love you."   
"Love ya." 

The phonecall clicked off. We found each other. In a melting pot of a pub, me with vodka and coke and Niall with Guinness, and we kept each other. He had a fortune and I had a law degree. Then we both had a family.


End file.
